


The Cracks in Your Armor

by yourlocalai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Discussions of violence, Gen, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlocalai/pseuds/yourlocalai
Summary: Back at the Burrow, Percy finds evidence of the person he'd let his anger turn him into, and the scars it left behind.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley & Percy Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Cracks in Your Armor

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by the work [As Fast As You Can](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443538/chapters/48503135?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_326425000) by likehandlingroses, which is amazing. Specifically this line: "Percy slamming doors so hard the walls of Ginny’s room had shaken...and how frightening he’d sounded, how unlike himself." I've been wanting to write from Percy's POV for a while, and reading that motivated me.

There was a crack in the doorframe leading to Percy’s room.

It wasn’t the only one. The Burrow was old bordering on ancient, and it’s extensions had never been done by a professional. It settled in odd ways, and cracks in the weak spots weren’t so unusual. But it was the newest.

He’d made it himself.

He’d slammed the door maybe a dozen times in those fraught months after he’d graduated but before he’d left, each impact trembling through the walls and shaking plaster from the ceiling. He’d even kicked it a couple of times, something he’d never done before and hadn’t done since. And at some point, it had cracked.

How could he have only just noticed it now? Had he been this unobservant his entire life? He hadn’t noticed the rage building inside himself either, until it had been too late.

He remembered, when he’d been young and still prone to clinging to his parents clothing, seeing a man slam his hands down on the counter of a shop, shouting at the storekeeper. He didn’t remember now where he’d been or what the man had been shouting about, but he remembered how frightened he was, wide eyed and shaking and hiding behind his mother’s robes.

What must it have been like, to live with someone like that?

“You going inside?”

Percy jumped, his skin prickling at letting someone so close to his back without his noticing, and whirled around. Ginny was standing there, arms crossed, and he realized that he was blocking the stairway. Had been for some time.

“Apologies,” he said, face heating. Reaching behind him, he groped for the doorknob and opened the door, stepping back enough to let her squeeze by. Her head reached his chin now. She’d grown so much, while he wasn’t around to see it.

He’d always gotten on best with Ginny, but he was old enough now to know that their relationship had never been one of equals. He’d spent too much time trying to be a parent, and Ginny was the only one young enough to have appreciated it at the time. He didn’t know what to make of this young woman, this stranger. He didn’t even know what to make of himself.

But the love was real, so strong his chest ached with it.

“Ginny,” he said, before she reached the next landing. She stopped, one hand on the railing, and looked at him from over her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow, and Percy felt his flush returning. As if he had only one thing to be sorry about. He turned away, let his fingers brush against the jagged edges of the crack.

“From—before. I was angry. I let it show. “ He forced himself to look away from the wall, to meet his sister’s eyes. Waiting for him to finish, if not exactly patiently. “I’m sorry if I ever frightened you. You deserved better.”

She smiled, huffing out of her nose, but her shoulders curved inward ever so slightly. Defensive. He used to do the same, before he started forcing himself to stand tall.

“No offense Perce, but you’re not exactly scary.”

Of course not. Scrawny, gangly Percy could never be so intimidating to stubborn, fierce little Ginny. Ginny, who’d taught herself hexes before the waxy coating on her new wand had started to wear away. The same Ginny who’d be dragged inside by the ear for brawling as a child, who’d sabotage the Quidditch games she’d never been allowed to play, who taught herself to be loud so she’d be heard as more than a whisper.

Their coping methods had been so different, but Percy could see the same anger in her that he’d let creep up on him, all unawares. It was the anger of never being quite enough, and not ever knowing why. Maybe that was why he’d always tried so hard to protect her.

“Even so,” he said, clearing his throat against a sudden tightness, “I never wanted to be the sort of man who’d let his temper run away from him. I’ll do better. Or at least I’ll try.”

Ginny hesitated, body held taught against some indecision, before she was bounding back down the stairs and into his arms.

The hug lasted barely a moment, not even long enough for him to reciprocate before she was pulling away, chin held high against the sheen in her eyes.

“Don’t do that again,” she said, glaring, and Percy could see her eyes flicker towards the crack. “It wasn’t like you.”

Percy hummed, suddenly afraid that it was more like him than he’d care to admit. He’d be better now. He didn’t have a choice.

That was apparently all she’d wanted to say, as she turned and started jogging back up the stairs, gripping tight to the railing and pulling herself up two steps at a time. Watching her go, Percy was seized with the wild urge to follow, to hug her properly, to make sure she knew how proud he was of her. He held it in, and she disappeared around the bend without a backwards glance. What use would his pride be to her, the traitorous son? As if he’d had any part in what she accomplished, what she became.

He kept the feeling though, let it burn like kindling in his heart as he finally entered his room, shutting the door lightly behind him. He’d tell her one day.

One day, when he’d earned the right.


End file.
